Letters to Fergus
by Sandtigress
Summary: From the personal correspondences of Amelia, Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, during the time of the Fifth Blight
1. 15 Drakonis

15 Drakonis

Dearest Fergus,

I had intended to sneak this into your pack along with the letters from Oriana and Oren, but then the mabari, and the rats in the larder, and well, you know. It's always something. I'll send it out with Father in the morning instead, and you'll have something to read while you're in Ostagar.

I really will miss you, big brother. I miss you already, to be truthful, and you away for mere hours. Do not stay away as long as you did in Antiva, courting Oriana. And especially don't bring back another wife! The one you already have will kill you, never mind her protests about women and violence. There's always poison in your afternoon tea.

Don't worry, I will be sure to look after them, especially Oren. Oriana misses you already as well, though Oren seems more occupied with his upcoming sword lessons. Yes, he managed to convince me already. Your son already shares a good measure of your irresistible "charm". He will be a dangerous man when he grows up! I will enjoy watching the noblewomen fight over him.

Kill the darkspawn and hurry home to us. I do not feel right, holding these lands in Father's stead, or in yours. I know this will be my lot in life in the years to come, as the wife of some noble or another (Mother has begun to talk of Bann Teagan of Rainefaire, what do you know of him?) but I hope not for some years to come. I would rather have you and Father here instead.

I suppose I must be off to bed. My duties await me in the morning, and Couslands always do their duty. Yes, I can imagine you repeating the mantra with me, but it is true enough. Tomorrow will be Ser Gilmore's trial for the Grey Warden. I know that you think I would be a good recruit, but I am glad that he is not here for me, as is Father, I know. The idea of fighting for a living…it does not appeal, Fergus, even though you say I have talent. I would rather take up my sword and shield when needed than live that life day in and day out.

But I must go. I hope that this letter finds you well, and not freezing in the rain. Too much. Take care, brother, and bring yourself home in one piece.

Your loving sister,

Amelia

_A/N This is a little project that my muse would not stop bugging me about until I started. For those of you reading my other story, I have _not _stopped on it, and I am done with my thesis and defense, but it's taking a little bit for my muse to start pontificating on that story again! So in the meantime, here are some short bits that hopefully will get her going again._


	2. 20 Drakonis

Oh Maker, Fergus, I don't even know where to begin. I have spent the past days trying to find the words to tell you, and I cannot. Maybe writing them down will be easier. I don't even know where the paper and ink came from, perhaps Duncan found them for me.

Fergus, everything we have known is gone. Our home, everyone at the castle, our _parents_. Oriana and Oren….Fergus, I don't know how to say how _sorry_ I am, that I let it happen, that I couldn't stop it, that I couldn't stop _Howe_. It was him, all along. He betrayed Father, us - it was only because of the Grey Warden that I am even alive.

And there is that. To save me, Father swore me to the Wardens. Conscripted, me, your little sister. It is a nightmare that I cannot wake from. But yours, yours will be so much worse and I dread having to tell you everything that has occurred. I need you, big brother, and yet I am afraid that you will need me far more, and I won't be strong enough for both of us.

We have several weeks yet before we reach Ostagar. Maybe by then I will know how to say these things to you. About your family and about our parents. You will be so proud of them though, Fergus, our parents. They died together, fighting to the end. Most days I wish Duncan had let me stay with them, but then who would tell you? And then you would truly be alone, and that would not be fair either. As if any of this were _fair_.

Enough. If I write more, you will not be able to read this beyond the tear stains. I doubt that you will ever see this letter anyways. Duncan is taking me to Ostagar – I hope to see you soon, brother. I need to see you soon.

I miss you,

Amelia


	3. 17 Cloudreach

17 Cloudreach

Today is the day of my Joining. After this, I will be forever a Grey Warden. They will not tell me what this ritual entails, but the junior Warden who is guiding us, Alistair, avoids the subject as though it were something bad. It is dangerous, that is all they will tell me, and it must be done immediately. I want to find you, but they tell me this must be done now. I have asked for enough time to write you this letter, and Alistair says that he will make sure it reaches you in case I cannot tell you myself, for whatever reason.

Howe must pay for his treachery, brother. I swear it to you, Arl Rendon Howe ordered the attack on Highever, and it was he who destroyed all that we held dear. Howe is responsible for Mother and Father, and for Oren and Oriana. I wish that I could have told you all this in person, I should have told you in person, but perhaps it is fate that I do not. And perhaps it is best that you not know what I have seen. That it happened at all is probably bad enough. Duncan, the Grey Warden who was at Highever, will confirm all this. The king holds him in high regard, and Duncan is a trustworthy man.

King Cailan himself has pledged his support to our cause. He is not as bad as the stories Mother passed on from Queen Anora made him out to be. Go to him when the battles at Ostagar are finished, and he will help you reclaim what Howe took from us. Our land, at least, if not our loved ones.

With this letter, I will leave you the family sword and shield. Mother made me take them – it is all that we have left of our legacy now. They should be yours anyways. They are a final gift from your family. Please take care of Fenhar for me – I know that he is impossible to manage without me, but he has been a good hound and deserves to go on even if I do not. I have tried to explain to him that he should look after you, but I do not know if he understands. Try to make him see.

Fergus, I hate to take from you the last family that you have left, but I must go through with this. Father made me promise, and how could I go against his dying wishes? This is my duty now, and a Cousland always does her duty. Maybe my duty should have been to find you, regardless of what anyone else said. I don't know, everything seems wrong now. If I were to wake up in my own bed tomorrow and find it all a dream, it would make more sense than for this to be reality.

But they are calling for me now – we are to enter the Wilds as part of this ritual. By Andraste's grace, maybe I will find you there, and this letter will be rendered moot. I will pray for it, and that we see each other soon. If not…Fergus, I love you, big brother. You are so strong, and I have always been very proud of you.

No matter what happens, I am and will always be your loving sister.

Amelia


	4. 1 Bloomingtide

Dearest Fergus,

It's Summerday, I think. We have not seen civilization in some time, but I am fairly certain I have the day right. We should be in Highever, getting ready to take Oren to the festival in town, with you bemoaning how much of your money Oriana is going to spend on trinkets, and Mother and Father making eyes at each other. Instead, I am a Grey Warden, wandering the Wilds, slaying darkspawn, and you…I wish I knew where you were.

We are just outside a small town called Lothering, at the edge of the Wilds. By "we" I mean me and Fenhar, another Grey Warden named Alistair, and an apostate witch called Morrigan. It's true, me, your ever pious sister, traveling with an apostate. The Blight has upended all our lives, it seems.

We escaped the slaughter at Ostagar, only barely, thanks to Morrigan's mother. She says she is Flemeth, yes _the_ Flemeth, the one in our own family history. I do not know what to think of her, or what to think of her rescue. I am no one important, not in the grand scheme of things, and I do not even want to be a Grey Warden. Yet I cannot help but be grateful to her anyways, even though I know that her help must come with a price. It means I can still find you. Is it silly of me to think that you might have survived the darkspawn attack, when the king and all the Wardens and even Duncan did not? I know it is unlikely and yet I cannot keep my heart from hoping.

Do you want to hear about my companions? They are the farthest thing from what you would expect, I think. Morrigan is a "Witch of the Wilds" who can change her form for that of animals. And she is…well, there are many impolite words I could call her that would scandalize Mother were she to hear, even though I suspect she has used many of them herself. Suffice it to say I do not think we will get along, for reasons other than that she is an apostate, as if that were not reason enough. But we are two Wardens against a Blight – I do not think we can turn her help away, at least not yet, though Alistair has expressed a dislike for her as well.

You will make fun of me for my second companion, my fellow Grey Warden, I am sure. I can hear you teasing me about him already, me traveling with a man, and a handsome one at that. I had my doubts at first, I will admit, about the suitability and about his intentions. But he is very kind, if a little irreverent, and as much a gentleman as even Father could ask for, as well as a skilled warrior.

I told him, last night, about Highever, about our parents, about you. I think it is the first time I have said it all out loud. I suppose I had no choice in the matter, he caught me crying when I was supposed to be keeping watch. Shameful, I know. I am afraid I have forgotten myself in my own grief for our parents, and for you, and treated him very badly these past few weeks. And yet, he was very compassionate. Sweet even. He has been through much as well, losing the Wardens and his mentor. We are much the same in that respect. But don't get any ideas. I am still a Cousland, even if I am a Grey Warden now. I may even be the last Cousland, and that means responsibilities, but dear Maker, I don't want to think about that. You have to be alive. And I will find you.

I have considered leaving this letter with someone in Lothering, on the chance that you might pass through, but I see the signs around us. The darkspawn are approaching and this town is doomed. I cannot bear the thought of losing even this to their filth, as I have lost you. Perhaps I will find another place, somewhere safer, where I could be sure this letter would reach you. Our direction will be decided once we have entered the town and heard what news we might. I hope against hope that you might be there, waiting for me.

I will not tell you of our mad plan, not yet. I do not know whether you would disapprove, or whether you would cheer me on. You have always supported me, and believed that I could do anything I put my mind to. I hope you are right, big brother. For Ferelden's sake.

But my watch is over, and I must at least try to sleep.

I remain ever yours,

Amelia


	5. 7 Bloomingtide

7 Bloomingtide

Dear Fergus,

It pains me that we did not find you in Lothering, and now I do not know where to even begin to look. Even now I write you this letter and I don't know why exactly. I have nowhere to send it and in all likelihood you are with your wife and son and our parents now. I begin to think that that is the better place to be than here, all alone. But writing to you gives me hope that one day we might see each other again, and perhaps you can see these letters, wherever it is that you are.

We are on our way to Denerim, to investigate tales of the Sacred Urn of Ashes. It is not mere whim, I assure you. Arl Eamon of Redcliffe is ill and his knights have been sent out to find Andraste's ashes to cure him. I know, it sounds a little foolish, but this entire business is mad anyways. And Andraste's ashes, brother! Imagine if we were to find them!

Alistair wishes to go to Redcliffe now, but I have convinced him that seeking the Ashes first is the best course. There is nothing we can do for Arl Eamon in our current state, and Arlessa Isolde is convinced that the power of the Ashes will be needed to save him. It will do us no harm to investigate the tales of this scholar in Denerim – if we find nothing then perhaps Eamon will have recovered by other means when we reach him. And if we do locate the Urn, then we might be able to save the Arl and thus gain his aid against the Blight.

It is truly mad, this idea that two junior Grey Wardens can stop an entire Blight. I haven't told you yet, have I? Flemeth has convinced us that it is our duty, the two of us, to gather allies to fight the darkspawn horde. Elves, mages, dwarves, and Arl Eamon if we can heal him. If we cannot, there is his son Connor or his brother that we might appeal to. But it is madness, Fergus, truly madness. I am to lead this effort and yet I do not know the first thing about being a Grey Warden and talent aside, I am no warrior. If I could, I would run to the nearest Wardens, in Orlais perhaps, and beg for their aid, but that would mean abandoning Ferelden, and I cannot do that. My sword and shield become heavier every day – I wish you were here to lift them for me. Even Teryn Loghain stands against us. This task seems more impossible each passing day.

I suppose I should not say that I am alone. My companions are a great aid in this endeavor. Alistair especially is fast becoming a close friend. He reminds me of you in many ways. Were things different and I not a noble…well, I am, and my duty to my family comes before all else, I know that.

We have two new additions to my ragtag band. I suppose I should tell you about them. Leliana I like very much. She came to us from the Lothering Chantry, and yet I suspect there is much more to her than meets the eye. You would like her, I think. On the surface she is gentle and kind, but beneath that is a cunning and graceful warrior. She intrigues me, and I wonder if she will ever trust me enough to confide her past to me.

The second addition will surprise you. Sten is a qunari warrior, sent by his people to investigate the Blight. He is a mystery to me, I admit. He seems an honorable and noble…man? I wonder if he would take offense at that, he is prickly in strange ways about being qunari. In any case, I would call him the most stoic and noble of warriors except that he accompanies us to redeem himself after slaying a number of farmers, including their children. He hardly seems capable of such an atrocious act but he denies it not, and I find that I just do not understand him at all. I can hear the worry in your voice now, but even if I do not comprehend him or his ways, I do trust him. You can fret if you like, big brother, but I do not fear coming to harm at his hands.

Fergus, I am not the same little sister that you remember. I have killed men, and not just those who overran Highever. Innocent men have died on my blade, men who were simply desperate for food and shelter and a little coin. Father always taught us that a noble's purpose was to serve and protect the common man and I believed him with all my heart. How do I reconcile that with what I have become? I am afraid he would be sorely disappointed in his daughter, that I am failing in the duty he ascribed me in becoming a Grey Warden. And I fear your disapproval as well – would you still love me, knowing what I have done? I hope you would.

Maker watch over you, brother, wherever you are. I will let you know the fruit of our endeavors as they happen.

Your sister,

Amelia


	6. 10 Justinian

10 Justinian

Dear Fergus,

The world has been turned upside down again, as it has many times since that night in Highever. I do not know if I am upside down or rightside up anymore. I would give anything to have you here to talk to. Maybe this letter will suffice.

We have a new traveling companion, a mage from the Tower named Wynne. She is a wise and gentle woman – she reminds me a bit of Nan, when she wasn't busy nagging us. We visited Lake Calenhad on advice from Brother Genetivi's man – he is the scholar who thought he knew where the Urn of Sacred Ashes is located. The Brother himself has disappeared though. It seems his man's information was…misleading. We met an ambush there instead, and the innkeeper there says that this is not the first time. More blood upon my blade, but I cannot bring myself to regret their deaths. Am I justified, because they attacked us and others first? Or am I simply becoming callous? I wish I knew.

We went to speak to the mages while we were there - it seemed the sensible thing to do. It should have been an easy task – ask for aid, show the treaties. Instead, we found only more chaos. The Tower had been overrun by abominations, it was the Chantry's worst nightmare. Yet I could not help but find myself sympathetic to the mages' plight. They did not ask for their powers, or to be locked away in a tower. Perhaps it is because I find myself possessed of strange abilities that I did not ask for…but those are Warden secrets that I should not reveal, not even to you.

My companions and I cleared the Tower of abominations – yes, I, your gentle sister, have faced against abominations and survived, and I have conquered demons and more and lived to tell the tale. You would find it a grand adventure, I am sure. In return, the First Enchanter has agreed to give us what aid he can against the Blight, and Wynne now travels with us.

She and I have talked, about being a Grey Warden amongst other things. She asks me what it means to me to be a Warden, and I have no answer for her. It is not something that I wanted for myself, nor something I would have ever chosen. I spent so long being angry about it and resenting that it has been forced upon me, but now…Wynne says that being a Grey Warden is about service, to all peoples no matter their rank or race. That is not so different from the nobility, not as Father taught us to see it at least. And the darkspawn are a terrible force, I have seen it with my own eyes, the atrocities that they commit. If it is now my duty to serve in a different manner, as a Grey Warden instead of as a Cousland…perhaps it is not so bad a fate.

Her words echo in my mind. "You are a guardian of men. And you guard them because their continued existence is more important than you are." It sounds like something Father might have said. And I find that I am drawn to that thought. I know that could I have died in your stead, or Father's or Mother's that I would have done so gladly, without a second thought. Perhaps now I have been given a chance to save many, by my life or my death. Is it okay, Fergus, to give up being a noble in order to serve in another way? Father said being a Warden was the greatest honor, but what higher honor could there be for me than to be a Cousland, to name myself my father's daughter and my brother's sister?

Wynne tells me that I need not forget where I have come from, but can one be a Grey Warden and still perform the duties of a noblewoman? It is up to me to reclaim Highever, to reclaim the family name and yet I have no name left to claim.

I am confused, brother. More than confused. And I miss you, very much. You are never far from my thoughts.

Ever yours,

Amelia


	7. 14 Solace

14 Solace

Oh Fergus, you would not believe it if I told you, but I will tell you anyways. We have found it, the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Yes, I am serious, we have truly found its resting place, and the guardian has given us a small amount of ashes with which to save Arl Eamon. I can hardly believe that we have succeeded, but I hold the evidence in my hand even as I write you this.

The path to the Ashes was anything but straightforward though. The town of Haven is…strange and twisted, in many ways. Was it worth the discovery of a holy artifact when the journey there was covered with the blood of villagers who were living the only life they have known? This seems to be a question I encounter often on this journey and the answer remains beyond me. What we did, we did to help Arl Eamon and to combat the Blight, but I compare our actions to that of Howe and...I do not like it.

But that was not the most difficult encounter on the way to the Ashes, not them or cultists or even dragons. I saw Father, Fergus, and it nearly broke my heart. You think I am mad, I am sure. It was not truly Father, I know, but a shade that assumed his likeness, though it made little difference. I was prepared to be condemned – I have condemned myself often enough. But he forgave me, released me from the guilt I have carried for so long, since that day in Highever. I could hear the pride and the love in his voice…Fergus, how can he love me still after all I have done and failed to do?

He gave me a pendant, and in it I sometimes catch a glimpse of him, and of Mother, loving and proud and all those things I remember about them. I see Oriana and Oren, Nan and Mother Mallol, and Ser Gilmore even, sometimes, but I do not see you. What does that mean? Should I take that as reason to hope that you live, or as confirmation of my worst fears, that my beloved brother finds fault that he cannot forgive in me? My thoughts swing from light to dark and back again.

And there are more reasons for me to wish for my elder brother back. I have told you of my fellow Grey Warden before, Alistair. And I have denied the possibility of anything between us, but oh Fergus. He gave me a present last night, a small thing, a rose that he picked in Lothering. It feels so long ago, but it is still beautiful. I have had suitors before, you know. Thomas Howe and Dairren Loren and other noblemen, and they have gifted me with far richer things even just as trinkets, but this is different somehow. He says that it reminds him of me, something "beautiful in a place of despair and ugliness" he said. He thinks of me as beautiful, calls me rare and wonderful and…Fergus, it stirs my heart in a way that I do not understand.

Even though you would tease me mercilessly, brother, I wish you were here so that I could ask you about love and courtship and what you thought of him. I think he is a good man, brave and loyal and strong and kind, and yet shy and silly and charming, all at once. I do not know where to go from here. Are Grey Wardens allowed to love? And yet who is to forbid us, alone as we are in this venture? Is it fair to take our minds away from the Blight for the sake of our feelings, if there are even real feelings there, or is it more imperative that we live in the now since there may not be a tomorrow?

It is not the flattery that confuses me so – Zevran is far more prolific and outrageous with his compliments and yet he does not stir such emotion. But I have not yet told you of my elven companion, the assassin, have I? It is a letter for another time, I think, though now I have given you cause for alarm again. Would it suffice to say that Alistair watches him suspiciously and would let no harm befall me at his hands? And see how my heart trembles yet again, that I might inspire such protectiveness in a man.

There are so many questions and so few answers. If ever I needed my big brother, it is now. If only I knew where to find you. Everything would be so much better if you were here, but I know wishes do little to change reality.

But for now, as always, you have all my love,

Your Amelia


	8. 22 Solace

Fergus, oh Fergus…why do things always fall apart when they seem to be going right? I have finally come to terms with my role as a Grey Warden, one who could be with the man I chose and now he is a prince, my Alistair is a prince! But I should not refer to him as such, there is no way that he can ever be mine, not now. A titleless woman has no place on the throne, not even when noble blood still flows in her veins. I should start at the beginning though, lest I confuse you further.

We arrived in Redcliffe several days ago to find the town and castle in shambles, and evil creatures attacking in the night. I am beginning to think that no step on this journey will be a simple one. Bann Teagan asked us for help – Mother was right, he is handsome and charming, and were things different, perhaps I would have encouraged the match. But now…alas, I digress.

We beat back the beasts and found our way into the castle proper. We discovered a nightmare within – Connor, the Arl's son, was possessed of a demon. This news must stay between us, brother. I do not wish the scandal upon the Arl's family that this news would cause. I don't know if we can keep it secret, but I would prefer it not be me that spread the word. It can only be hidden in the first place through the Maker's own blessing – we were able to enlist the aid of the Circle of Magi, which was only too happy to help after we prevented their annulment. Connor will have to go to the Circle for training, but at least he is alive, free, and as sane as can be expected.

After Connor's rescue, we went to Arl Eamon's bedside and Fergus, it is truly a miracle, Andraste's ashes were able to heal him, when no magic or herb could. He is well again, and has recovered more quickly than we could have hoped. He has agreed to work with us against Loghain to unite Ferelden against the Blight. So how then amidst all this good news can I be so desperately unhappy?

Though we have come to know one another well these past few months, it seems Alistair has managed to keep a secret from me. Perhaps "keep from me" is too strong a statement, he was afraid to tell me, and then I stopped him when he mustered the courage to try. Fergus, he is the bastard son of King Maric himself, half-brother to King Cailan and thus heir to the throne. I am not so naïve as to think that his illegitimate birth will keep him from the throne, not an heir to Calenhad who bears Theirin blood in his veins. Arl Eamon knows this too – it is his plan to put forth Alistair for the throne and thus unite the people behind him. And he will succeed. Alistair is untried and unsure, but he has presence and charm, like King Maric his father. The Landsmeet will approve him and put him on the throne, and I cannot follow him. Alistair insists otherwise, but I know better.

Fergus, is this what a broken heart feels like? It makes no sense to be so upset over it all – there is so little, and yet so much, said between us. I am sure of his intentions, but how can I encourage them when I know there can be no happy ending for us? Maybe before, when I was Amelia Cousland, I could have imagined myself upon the throne. But I am that woman no longer, only Amelia the Grey Warden, a nobody to the Landsmeet despite my former self. Still I do not know if I am strong enough to say no when I care for him the way that I do.

Pray for me, brother, wherever you are. I will need it, as I need you.

Yours,

Amelia


	9. 24 August

_A/N Just wanted to say a quick thank to you everyone for reading, and especially to those who take the time to review! It is very much appreciated!_

24 August

Dearest Fergus,

It has been some time since I have written you – for that I apologize. We have been wandering the Brecilian forest, in search of the Dalish. There was word of a clan in the area, and you know I have long had a fascination with the Dalish. It seems though that the romance does not live up to the reality.

They are…well, stand-offish would be quite the understatement. Outright hostile might be more appropriate, but they are our allies, so I should not say such things. I suppose I should have expected it, really, given how elves have been treated by humans throughout their history. They have more than enough reason to be wary of us, even with an elf in the party. Zevran is quite the opposite of a Dalish though, he probably inspires little confidence in them. But I have not told you much of my elven companion, have I?

Zevran is, was, an assassin sent by Teyrn Loghain to eliminate the last Wardens in Ferelden. It is hard to believe that the Hero of River Dane has fallen so low…but I am sure that is not what you are concerned about right now. Zevran was an Antivan Crow, and since you spent time in Antiva, I am sure you know of the Crows. His attempt failed, obviously. I do not know exactly what caused me to spare his life – Alistair most certainly did not approve. But there is something about him that stopped my blade, and he has since become a valued traveling companion, and yes, maybe even a friend.

Perhaps I am being naïve, but he swore to me his loyalty, and I believe him to be a man, an elf, of his word. Certainly he has done nothing to go against his pledge in the month he has traveled with us, though Alistair continues to watch him carefully. And a bit jealously, I think, though I am trying hard to put distance between us. Alistair maybe sees cause, to call Zevran a flirt would be a great understatement – he is quite free about expressing and requesting affections. I have caught him throwing compliments at Wynne even, and she is much more the grandmotherly type. I am never quite sure when he is serious, and when he is deflecting with humor. Like many of my companions I think there is more to him than meets the eye.

But I was telling you about the Dalish. As always seems to be the case, there was trouble to be solved before we could gain our allies, treaties not withstanding. This time, it was werewolves. Yes, like the stories Nan sometimes told us. It seems this one, at least, was real. I can only hope that tales of the Ferelden toe nibblers do not also turn out to be true.

In the end, it seems the Dalish were responsible for their own plight, or at least one was. Their leader – they call them Keepers – Zathrian, long ago began this curse to punish the humans who had taken his children. It was a sad story, and while I cannot blame him for his anger, his vengeance went too far. It makes me think, Fergus, of the hatred I hold against Howe still for what he did to us, to you. It is not unreasonable, is it, to hate someone who took away everything you cared about? But I fear becoming like Zathrian, so eaten up by hatred that I hurt those that I care about and so blinded by rage that I cannot even see it. The thought haunts me at night – I do not want to become a monster, Fergus, one within rather than without like the werewolves.

Of all my companions, I think perhaps Alistair would understand the most – he blames Teyrn Loghain still for the events of Ostagar, and he is not wrong. He does not talk about it, any more than I do about Howe, but I see how it gnaws at him. I would talk to him but I fear his nearness as much as I crave it, as much as I fear the monster that is growing within me, maybe within us both.

But I have turned to depressing talk again, as I always seem to. Perhaps one day I can write to you of happier things again. I will wait eagerly for that day, and the day that I might see you again.

Until then I remain yours,

Amelia


	10. Date unknown

Dearest Fergus,

I am no longer sure what day it is. We have been underground in the Deep Roads for an eternity, it seems, and here there is no day and night. There is only fighting and fleeing and fighting again – the darkspawn are all around, and they are not the only threat. There are many strange creatures here, and I am sure you would be simply fascinated.

We are here chasing ghosts, brother. The dwarves have sent us on one foolish errand after another in pursuit of this final treaty. We have cleared thaigs (they are something like city-states, perhaps?) and criminal hideouts, and still it was not enough. I know that we are being played for fools, but the dwarves would be a great aid against the Blight, being on the frontlines of war against the darkspawn as they are.

The latest task is to find some living dwarven legend, a Paragon, they call her. Her name is Branka, and she took her entire house into the Deep Roads in pursuit of something they call the Anvil of the Void. It was used to create golems in the past but has been lost for many years. Well, I say her entire house, but that is not entirely true. One member remains, her husband, a warrior by the name of Oghren.

I suppose you have guessed by now that Oghren travels with us. I do seem to have collected a most motley crew, have I not? He met us at the entrance to the Deep Roads and refused to leave once he learned that we sought his wife. It seemed the wise thing to do, bring a dwarf with us to the Deep Roads and a renowned warrior at that. But Oghren is…not that simple. As if any of my companions are.

I think you would like him. Oghren is all bawdy songs and drunkenness and crude jokes on the surface, and he is indeed a fearsome warrior when the darkspawn strike. Underneath that? Sometimes I think there is nothing underneath. Other days I see something more familiar, a frustration that life is not the way that it ought to be, and perhaps a woundedness that he tries to hide. He hides it well though.

We have pulled together, all of us, here in the darkness, despite our differences. Even Sten and Morrigan, the two most distant of my companions, seem closer now. We are so isolated here in the earth, and it often seems as if nothing else exists, that the world above us is what is make-believe and this is the only reality.

At the same time, I am glad for the reminders that there is something else. Dwarven society is so different from our own, Fergus. The nobles play their games in the world above, but here, they are cut-throat and vicious, and it seems like there is no love even for a brother or a parent. I cannot imagine living that way, day in and day out, never knowing who to trust or if love is real. Maybe Howe could…but not me, not after Mother and Father and you. Everyone uses each other here, and so many are cast by the wayside. You should see them – but no, you should not. It is heart-breaking, how some live in squalor and are so completely _ignored_ by their fellow dwarves that they are told they should not exist, that they were never meant to be born.

I met a woman, Fergus, whose was cast out of her home for the crime of giving birth to the son of a casteless dwarf. Her name was Zerlinda – I remember it even after so many weeks in the darkness. Alistair and I were able to convince her family to take her back in, but it is not enough. It is why I have thrown my support behind Bhelen Aeducan, the prior king's son. Zevran supports the decision whole-heartedly, he says that Bhelen is a strong leader, and he is right in that. But I see it in his eyes, Bhelen is devious and sly. I do not trust him, and Alistair agrees with me. But he is the dwarves' best option for change – he says that he supports dissolution of the castes. I am not sure if I can believe him, but the dwarves cannot stay the way they are, they cannot.

But all of this is not why I am writing you this letter here in the depths of the earth, is it? I have tried to keep count of the days, though I think I have failed utterly, and have either missed the day entirely or anticipated it. But I will wish you a happy naming day anyways, brother, and send you all my love, wherever you are.

Your own,

Amelia


	11. 10 Firstfall

10 Firstfall

Dearest Fergus,

At long last we have fought our way out of the Deep Roads and won the dwarves as our allies. It is a joy to see the sky again – I had begun to think it was but a figment of my imagination. We have departed Orzammar following Bhelen's coronation. I am glad that this business is done, but it was a terrible thing. Bhelen has sentenced his rival Harrowmont to execution, eliminating his opposition. I tried to interfere, but I had no say in the matter, despite having done all they have asked and more.

During the coronation it was not Bhelen, but Alistair that I watched. There was fear in his eyes, knowing that it could be him, some day soon, receiving the crown upon his head. The idea of ruling terrifies him so, but I know in my heart he will be a fine king. He would not put an innocent man to death simply to solidify his position, in case the man turned against him. He is not so ruthless, or so cowardly. I wish that I could give him the confidence he needs to see how wonderful he could be, but I fear that doing so might entangle us further than we already are, and that if we get too deep, we might not be able to do what must be done at the Landsmeet. But it is hard to keep my distance, Fergus, it is so very hard, and I think it only confuses him further.

But you do not want to hear about that, do you? I am sure you would be more interested in Caridin and the Anvil of the Void, the secrets of the golems and Branka the mad Paragon. It is truly the most fitting name for her. The woman sacrificed her entire house in pursuit of the Anvil. She went as far as to give the women of her house, including her lover, to the darkspawn to become a nightmarish creature, a broodmother, whose only purpose is to birth more darkspawn. It was a horrid sight, Fergus.

Branka trapped us in a maze of traps, traps that she herself had exhausted her house upon. And so she used darkspawn, birthed by her friend. And when they failed, us. Of course it would surprise you that we succeeded where she did not, wouldn't it? I jest, I know you have always believed in me. At the end of this gauntlet of trials we found the Paragon Caridin himself, who had created the Anvil and the golems. He was long thought dead, but in truth had hidden himself away to protect his terrible secret.

Caridin created golems by sacrificing living beings, dwarves who volunteered their lives to become invincible creatures of stone and metal. Rather, they volunteered at first. When the king saw how effective the golems were, he began to order dwarves to their deaths and Caridin could bear it no longer. Then he himself was put on the Anvil, turned into a golem, and he determined to hide it away forever. He needed us to destroy it, no golem could, he said.

Branka tried to stop us, and though I tried to find another way, we had to fight and kill her. I don't know how Oghren can bear to stay with us, after what we did to his wife. She was mad, I know, but still. I think about you, and Oriana, and I feel guilty, even if he seems to have forgiven me. He has given up his life in Orzammar to join us on the surface – sacrificed his house and his caste to fight the darkspawn with us. In some ways, I suppose though, he has not given up that much, since he is the last of his house remaining. We have that in common, it seems.

Fergus, we have finally completed our mission. We have gained the aid of the dwarves, the elves, the mages, and we head now back to Redcliffe and Arl Eamon's forces. I can hardly believe we have come this far, but you knew all along that we would, I am sure. You have ever had more confidence in me.

I will need your continued belief in me, brother, wherever you are. We face Teyrn Loghain soon, the Hero of River Dane himself. Despite all that we have accomplished so far, I am still afraid. It seems an impossible task. It is Ferelden's best hope though, and so we must do it.

Pray for me, brother. I am ever praying for you.

Your sister,

Amelia


	12. 15 Firstfall

_A/N Just my continued thanks to everyone for reading and especially to those who are kind enough to leave reviews! They are very much appreciated!_

15 Firstfall

Fergus, is love always so complicated? Things were not so hard for you and Oriana, were they? I have tried to stay away, truly I have, but it appears I have not been so successful. My distancing has not changed my heart, nor his it seems.

I am writing you this letter from my bedroll, from which I have been forcefully reminded not to move until further notice after finding myself injured on the battlefield. First, do no worry, it is not serious. Perhaps it is more correct to say that thanks to Wynne it is not serious – had we not been so fortunate as to have her as a traveling companion and friend I might well be with my family at the Maker's side now. And while it would bring me no small joy to see my dearest ones again, there are many things which hold me here, not the least of which is my duty against the Blight. I will admit though that the idea of being with you all again kept much of the fear from my heart.

Loghain has changed his tactics, or added on to them, perhaps. Or maybe it is just that the common folk must find other ways to collect his bounty on Grey Wardens. In this case, sabotage, or at least that is Zevran and Leliana's theory – they are confirming it now, backtracking to the village we passed through. It is certainly the most likely explanation for why armor that I asked to be repaired would simply fall apart instead during a battle against the darkspawn, isn't it? Yes, I know that we just left Orzammar, home of the best smiths in Thedas, but it didn't seem like it was a problem then. And you have never traveled with two Grey Wardens and a dwarf, we were in need of a resupply anyways. But now you are teasing me again…

It was a truly terrifying experience, nearly dying, I will be honest. But then, I guess you know that, don't you? So many things flashed before my eyes in that moment – images of you teaching me to use a sword and convincing Ser Roderick to give me lessons, of playing chase throughout Highever, saying goodbye to you when you left for Antiva and your wedding day, playing with Oren as a baby. And beyond that, of my last night at Highever and Duncan, meeting Alistair, and events along my journey as a Grey Warden. How is it that so many things can fit into such a short time that nevertheless feels like an eternity? Is it strange that other than my family, Alistair occupied the foremost of my thoughts?

I don't know if it should please me or not that it was he who was waiting by my side when I awoke. It thrills the heart, but unsettles that part of me that knows that we cannot be together. The way he watches me now, as though I were something precious and valuable that he were afraid of losing…it is both exhilarating and frightening. And he kissed me Fergus, he kissed me! It was all that I could have dreamed of a first kiss being, disregarding my injuries and the impossibility of our situation. I will never forget the words he whispered to me, burned as they are into my heart and soul now. "Have a care for my heart, my lady, for surely it fell when you did."

Oh Maker, Fergus, I am so confused. What is between us is real, I know that it is, but that does not change duty – he to the throne and me to the Grey Wardens. Every day that passes makes it more difficult to face our inevitable separation. This coming Landsmeet cannot happen soon enough, or I fear that he or I will do something foolish and doom us all. We will leave for Redcliffe as soon as I am well enough, and from there I can only hope that Arl Eamon will be ready to leave soon.

Keep me in your prayers, big brother. The days ahead grow ever more difficult.

Your own,

Amelia


	13. 15 Haring

15 Haring

Dear Fergus,

Things are already not going according to plan, and the Landsmeet has not even occurred yet. The Maker has a sense of humor, it seems, or quite the belief in our abilities – I would have thought defeating the Blight was a challenge enough but he seems to disagree. Where should I start?

When we arrived, we were almost immediately approached by Anora's lady-in-waiting who brought news of the Queen's capture by Howe. It seemed very suspicious, but it was an opportunity to gain Anora as an ally, and so we went to rescue her. It was, of course, if not an outright trap, a convenient opportunity for Loghain's men to capture us.

I should not have risked the future King of Ferelden in such a risky venture, I know, but I was selfish. I knew that I would have to face Howe, and I could not refuse Alistair's desire to be present, knowing that I would want his strength by my side in that fight, and afterwards. I thought for so long that when the day came I would take pleasure in killing him, after all that he had taken from me. When the time actually came though…I do not know. My feelings are mixed, nowhere near as straightforward as I thought they would be. There is relief – that our parents and you and your family are avenged, that Howe can no longer perpetrate his evil on other families like he did on ours. His death did nothing to alleviate all the pain and the loneliness that I have lived with since that day at Highever though. I thought it would make me happy, but I miss you just as much as I ever did. And in some ways, I feel sick, knowing that it is yet more human blood on my blade, another death to my name, knowing that I would go so far as to kill a man because he hurt me. I know that Howe is far from innocent and that he forced our final confrontation, but still, brother. Where does it end? How much insult or injury is enough to justify the slaying of another man?

After Howe's death, we freed Queen Anora but encountered troops loyal to Teyrn Loghain on the way out of the estate. Would Loghain's men truly hurt his daughter? I doubt so, but so much has been twisted and confused that I do not know who to trust anymore beyond my own companions. We fought back instead, hoping to at least keep Anora safe, and we succeeded in that much, though Alistair and I were taken and thrown into Fort Drakon to await Loghain's judgment. Yes, I knew that would amuse you, hearing of your sweet, obedient sister locked in Drakon like the most heinous of criminals! Truthfully though it is an awful place, saturated with misery and despair and I would not wish it upon my worst enemies. Well, perhaps it would have been a fitting place for Howe, rather than allowing him to befoul my blade.

We escaped with the aid of my companions – Oghren and Zevran if you will believe. I am told they put on quite an entertaining show, the famous "Brohma brothers" or some such nonsense, they said. It was certainly quite a laugh to see them enter the prison cells in clown outfits! The Maker blessed me when he sent these men and women to aid me against the Blight, he truly did. We fought our way free from there – yes, just the four of us. Did you ever imagine your baby sister becoming such a formidable force, escaping from Fort Drakon with such little aid? I know that I could not have foreseen it.

We returned to Arl Eamon's estate, where Anora immediately begged us to investigate rumors of trouble in the Alienage connected to her father. Always one thing after another. One would start to think we weren't doing everyone a great service in defeating the Blight as it were!

I have never been in an alienage before, not like the one at Denerim. The elves there live in such squalor, Fergus. I am glad that Father never allowed such things at the castle, and I can only hope that the alienage at Highever is a happier place to live. As if things were not bad enough for the elves, Loghain, it seems, has gone so far as to sell men and women off to slavery. Slavery, in Ferelden! The very idea is unspeakable, I cannot imagine what has driven the Hero of River Dane to fall so very low. He must be stopped, of that I am certain. Surely the Landsmeet will agree with us on that account, with all the evidence that we have uncovered. Would that we could find another way rather than put Alistair on the throne…but we will do what we must, he and I are of the same mind on that.

Alistair and I have received word of a survivor from Ostagar who is seeking our aid. Arl Eamon says that the Landsmeet will not be for some time yet, with First Day soon approaching and the winter snows slowing the nobles, so we will make our way to Bann Loren's lands and see what might be discovered. There is good news, however. In Howe's estate we discovered another Grey Warden, senior of Jader. His name is Riordan. It is beyond relief to have a senior Grey Warden on our side at last. The archdemon has remained hidden thus far as we sort through Ferelden's civil problems, but I cannot continue to hope that our luck will hold out. There is so much still about being a Grey Warden that we do not know, that Riordan can share with us.

But we are about to leave and so I must draw this letter to a close. I will write to you again soon.

Your sister,

Amelia


	14. 1 Wintermarch

_A/N Spoilers for the Return to Ostagar DLC ahead, just in case you haven't played it yet and don't want to be spoiled. You have been forewarned! As always, thanks so much to everyone who is reading and especially reviewing!_

1 Wintermarch

Dearest Fergus,

Happy First Day, big brother. I have little to gift you with, out on the road as we are, unless you would like to pick amongst our collection of weaponry or armor, though truthfully you would probably find that a fine gift indeed.

We are two days out of Ostagar, on our way back to Denerim for the Landsmeet. Why Ostagar? Our information from King Cailan's man pointed us to a chest of vital information that was left behind when the army was slaughtered. We discovered that and more upon our return. Darkspawn, of course, but also the remains of King Cailan. It was a pitiful sight, Fergus, his body, put on display like a gruesome trophy by the darkspawn. We gave him an honorable burning when we could – it was the least we could do for him, after Loghain's treachery sealed his fate. Would that we could have done so for all the poor soldiers that Loghain doomed, but the darkspawn have seen to their corpses. It is another thing that Loghain will have to answer for.

The chest contained several of King Cailan's documents, letters from Empress Celene of Orlais to him, and of a familiar and intimate nature, inviting the Orlesians to join Ferelden in the fight against the darkspawn. Is this perhaps why Loghain abandoned the king to his fate? Especially this mention of a permanent alliance, and Arl Eamon's talk of putting Queen Anora aside. It is this that troubles me the most, Fergus. Not talk of uniting Orlais and Ferelden – that might be a prudent route given Ferelden's weakened state, though I know it would be near treason to suggest it to men and women of Father's time. No, that is not it at all.

Fergus, Arl Eamon had been encouraging the king to put aside his wife in favor of a woman who could give him children, heirs to the throne. It is true, they had been married some time and yet their union had not been fruitful. Why, do you ask, am I concerned with this? I fear what I am about to tell you, but you will keep it a secret, won't you? At least until I have decided if it is the route that we should take.

We face the Landsmeet soon and the Hero of River Dane, second only to Maric the Savior in the regard of the people, and we seek to depose his daughter to place Alistair on the throne. I know that it will not be looked upon kindly by the Landsmeet and I hear the talk amongst the nobles, the skepticism in their voices. There is a solution to it all, that will raise Alistair's claim to the throne above any complaint. If Alistair and Anora were to wed, or at least agree to it, then their mutual claim would be beyond objection. It is perfect, and it breaks my heart. But I knew we could not be together, that he would have to marry another. Perhaps it is better for both of us that it happens sooner than later.

No, I have not told him of this plan yet. I am afraid to face him – afraid he will object or outright refuse, even more afraid that he will agree and leave me behind. Perhaps something else will present itself, another solution. Perhaps by then the nobles will accept Alistair on his own. And perhaps I am trying too hard to fool myself, holding on to the best part of being a Grey Warden for me.

I am trying to be strong, to put Ferelden's needs before my own desires, but it is so very, very hard. Would that you were here to share your advice, brother. But I know that you will be looking out for me from where you are.

I miss you terribly,

Amelia


	15. 15 Wintermarch

15 Wintermarch

Dearest Fergus,

Tomorrow is the Landsmeet, when all our fates will be sealed. We will confront Loghain before the assembled nobles and we will put an end to his misguided leadership and set Ferelden back on course to defeat the Blight. We must, it is our only hope for a united front behind Grey Wardens, and only in such a manner will the archdemon meet its end.

The deed is done. Anora and Alistair are set to wed, and the Landsmeet is sure to support their combined claim to the throne. It was agreed to reluctantly, most of all by me, but all three of us realize that this is Ferelden's best chance. Or rather, Alistair and I realize this. Anora, I think, realizes mostly that it is her best opportunity to remain in power.

As much as it breaks my heart to send him off, I grieve more for him now than for me. Alistair has a sister, a half-sister, in Denerim, and he asked me to come with him today when he visited her. I have never seen a man who longs for family as much as he does. Under other circumstances, it would be quite endearing. In this case, though, his sister is…the politest word I could call her is a harpy, and that would not approach the contempt I feel for her, that she would trample over his hopes for money. And now I have convinced him to marry a woman who will never love him, and turn his back on the one whose heart belongs to him alone. Fate could not have designed a more sorrowful hand to deal us.

Am I making a mistake, Fergus? Is there an option I am not seeing, a course that we could take that would not end in heartbreak for us all? If there is, it is hidden from me, and I cannot find it.

But it is late, and tomorrow will be a big day. I will let you know what the nobles decide.

All my love,

Amelia


	16. 16 Wintermarch

16 Wintermarch

Fergus, I think I may have done something incredibly foolish. It was, at the very least, impetuous and impromptu and…I do not think there are words to describe it. But for your sake, I will try, to the best of my ability.

We stood before the Landsmeet yesterday, and all eyes were on me to choose Ferelden's next ruler. All on me – I trembled under the weight. Loghain forced a confrontation, before all the nobles. Alistair finally had his revenge after defeating Loghain in single combat – I wonder if he is any more satisfied than when I slew Howe. But none of this is the foolish part.

Ferelden looked to me to choose its next ruler, to choose between Alistair or Anora or honor the agreement between them and raise them together to the throne. And I…Fergus, I thought of Alistair and his disappointment in Goldanna and in family, of Cailan and Anora and their lack of children, and how could I possibly condemn the man I adore to a loveless life with no family to call his own? And so I stood before the Landsmeet and I announced Alistair as king, with me by his side.

The Landsmeet approved, Fergus. I thought they would shout me down for my slip of the tongue and declare its impossibility, me just a Grey Warden. But they do not believe it is contrary for me to be both Warden and Cousland, and perhaps they are right. At his side, I can provide for Alistair the political background he lacks, the guidance he needs until he finds his own feet – it is what Mother and Father taught me to do, after all. And perhaps together we will be the pair that Ferelden needs, not just to stop the archdemon but for the future as well.

Queen, Fergus. Your little sister is going to be queen. I can hardly believe it. And more glorious than that, I will marry the man that I love. Of course there are ever complications. Some of them are…personal, that I am not ready to discuss yet, even with you. Not just yet. As to the rest, the army is gathering in Redcliffe and Arl Eamon has already departed for home. We leave tomorrow to join him. Alistair has declined the throne until the threat of the Blight is passed, with Anora named as his heir should he fall against the Blight. But that is not today, and I will do everything in my power to see that such precautions remain unnecessary.

For tonight, I think I will simply be astonished at the wonder of it all.

Sweetest dreams to you, dear brother.

Your sister,

Amelia


	17. 29 Wintermarch

Fergus, oh Fergus, tell me what I should do. I know that you cannot really hear me, and that you can't answer back, but how I wish I could talk to you. Perhaps this letter will suffice – will you find a way to talk to me?

The archdemon is on its way to Denerim [i]_now_[/i] and Riordan has revealed a most awful secret – a Grey Warden must die to stop the archdemon, and there will be no other Grey Wardens in Ferelden when the time comes, we cannot wait for them. I am not so foolish as to imagine that somehow Riordan will land that final blow. It will be Alistair or me, I know it. How can I let my heart slay itself for me? But I would be naïve to think that he would let it be any other way.

But there is more, Fergus, there is more. Morrigan has offered a way out, at a terrible price. We have become close, she and I, like the sister I never had, but was it all for this? I do not know what to think. She asks me to convince Alistair to lay with her this night, to conceive a child with an Old God soul, and this will spare the Grey Warden who kills the archdemon. But Fergus, a child, not our own, and he with another woman…

We may never have children, Alistair and I, because of the taint. And now to save us from that taint Morrigan seeks to steal a child from him, his only child, and who knows what will become of it? We are doomed whichever way I choose. And how can I ask him to take as his first a woman that he hates to save the woman that he loves? It is impossible, Fergus, but I cannot bear the thought of life without him, not after all that we have already been through for each other.

Tell me what to do, big brother. Do I send my beloved to Morrigan and hope she is telling the truth, or do I take myself to his room and spend one night in his arms, possibly the only night we will ever have? Please Fergus, please help me…what should I do?


	18. 15  Drakonis

15 Drakonis

Dear Fergus,

There is an irony in this matter ending where it began. It is a year to the day since I saw you last, on your way to Ostagar, a year since Howe stole away all that I loved. And now it is but mere hours to my beloved's coronation, where he will become King of Ferelden.

It has been quite a journey that led me here to this place, and I know that you were by my side for it all. Through treaties and battles and personal struggles, I know that I have never been alone. And even in the darkest times – battling the archdemon and that night that I waited for Alistair to return to me from Morrigan's bed…I know that your thoughts have ever been with me.

The trials are not over – Ferelden is still in need of a Warden Commander and I am under no impression that being Queen will be an easy task, but I think that things will be all right from here. This past year has shown me that I am strong enough to overcome the trials that life provides, stronger than I ever thought possible. What could be worse than the archdemon? Perhaps the outcome of Morrigan's ritual…but she has sworn that the child will never be used against us, and despite myself, I believe her. It has not been an easy matter between Alistair and I…but we will survive. We did it to survive.

Fergus, I have written you so many letters throughout this year, letters that were more for me than for you. I see that now. I needed to have you close, to talk to you and to hear your advice, to know you were near. I will always miss you, big brother, but I think now I can let you go. I have made many dear and wonderful friends throughout this journey who will help me carry the burdens of my life as you so often did, though they were indeed much lighter then. Alistair has promised that we will build a memorial to you, to Mother and Father and all the victims of Howe's evil, and I will bury these letters there. So this will be my final letter to you, but never doubt that you will always be in my heart.

I could wax philosophical longer, but I am sure you are tired of soppy sentiment and there are many things left for me to do to prepare for the coronation ceremony. Alistair says that he has a surprise for me – I know that he intends this to be as much for me as for him. The "Hero of Ferelden" he calls me, another grand title to add to my growing list, I suppose. I wish more than anything that you could be there - for this ceremony, for my wedding, perhaps to see your niece or nephew if the Maker so blesses us. But then you _will_ be there, in spirit if not in flesh, and that will be enough. Farewell Fergus, I will never forget you and I eagerly await the day we see each other again.

Until then I remain forever yours,

Amelia


	19. Epilogue  3 Solace

3 Solace

Dear Amelia,

I received your letter - of course I'm coming to your wedding. An entire horde of darkspawn couldn't keep me away and yes, I am aware of the irony of that statement. It will be good to get out of Highever. There are still too many reminders of Howe here and all that he did and left behind. But then you are more than aware of what he did.

Your Alistair seems like a fine man. I always told you one day you'd find someone who could handle you, and I'm glad to see that I was right. Just so you know, I've already told him that I'll break both his legs if he hurts my little sister. He said you were more than capable of doing the deed yourself – I like him already!

He is a lucky man to win such a woman for his bride. You make me very proud, Amelia, and I know that Mother and Father would be proud of you as well, and not just for elevating the Couslands to the most powerful family in Ferelden! I won't give you a speech about doing your duty as a Cousland, I rather suspect you'll attend to your duties with quite a will!

I will see you soon, dear sister, and I look forward to the day.

Your brother,

Fergus

_A/N Thus ends Amelia's Origins journey and my first completed series. Thank you so much to everyone who has followed and read them, and most especially to those who reviewed and encouraged me throughout! A big special thanks to SurelyForth for previewing letters and helping me figure out if things were horrible or stupid! Some have asked whether these will continue or not – I'm not opposed to the idea but no particular concept has grabbed me yet, so we'll see. Maybe one day we'll hear from Amelia again. For those of you that missed it, however, she and Alistair do have a short story that corresponds to the letter after Ostagar, 1 Bloomingtide, called Shared Grief. It can be found under the story listings in my profile, since I can't figure out how to link it here!  
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___Again, my sincerest thanks to all of you!_


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